


Cigarette for your thoughts

by etraparin



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Hairflip Goth, High School, red goth - Freeform, south park - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23530552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etraparin/pseuds/etraparin
Summary: She was Pez. Pez the volleyball player, darling of the group, the thing that could brighten everybodys’ day.Until that one day she didn’t have to be. That day in October will forever be imprinted in the back of her head.The rain. The cold. How she sat on the bleachers alone, waiting for the sky to stop crying so she could continue on her way over to the gymnasium. Playoffs were only a few months away which meant most of her time would be spent with her teammates in the gym, after school, training.She stared off into space for what felt like hours. Watching the droplets aggressively hit the ground and the trees shake in anger. Letting the day sink in. She didn’t even notice how the figure clad in black took a seat only two rows behind her. How she started crying. How he heard.Never learning of his presence behind her, she stood up and started sprinting in the direction of the gym. Tears mixing with the rain. Leaving him behind, staring after her.This was their first encounter, and she didn’t even know.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Reader, Pete Thelman/Reader, Red Goth/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

April

I guess that night was the beginning of the end.

It was as if she was looking through fingerprint dirtied glasses, her eyesight a sense deemed not even useful anymore at this point. Gracefully as possible, when still a bit wobbly, she navigated through the crowded living room, squinting as the bright neon lights came into view. The girl tried to fight against the urge to shut her eyes until she lost and was forced to close her green eyes completely. Her right hand rose absentmindedly to her face, wanting to pour the mix of vodka and red bull she had obtained by one of the Sophomores a bit earlier into her already dry mouth, almost as if on autopilot. Only when she didn’t feel the plastic material of the disposable red cup hit her lips did she open them again, staring at her painted nails instead and finding that it was gone. An airy laugh escaped through her nose. _When did she lose it?_

But before she could even begin to think about the disappearance of her cup any further and realize that the alcohol-induced state she was in was alarming, that she should probably call her uncle to pick her up, a bottle of beer was eagerly thrust into her empty hand instead. With a confused smile, she turned to her right and was met with a familiar face. Her brows raised in a surprised manner, smile growing into her well-known heart-shaped grin. She tumbled forward and gave his shoulder a slight push.

“Well, looky here,” she lulled at him out loud. _This was too much_. “I haven’t seen you the entire evening, mister!” Half lidded eyes were met with treacherous ones. _If only she had been sober_. He put his arm over her smaller shoulder and led her away.

Everyone had been on the tips of their toes that week; it was April. The month every single teenager in South Park had been eagerly anticipating all year, just because of one special event. The annual party at the Marsh house was the highlight of each school year ever since the little group had started high school. It was like a ritual. This was the fourth year in a row in which the high society of Southpark High would gather at Stans’ house to start easter break off with a bang. The only difference this time being that this would be the last party being held, as it was their final year. Senior year. This was also the reason everyone seemed to overdo it; this years’ motto apparently being ‘ _Go big or go home’._ She was one to talk. Everyone was looking at her stumbling her way through the kitchen. _Everyone is looking at me._

She had no clue how she peeled herself off him, his hands grabbing at her back as she left. She didn’t see his dark expression. Everything they talked about just moments ago; gone. Her head was pounding. Who was she even talking to in the first place? A tight-lipped laugh was caught in her throat. She didn’t remember. But she didn’t let that bother her in the slightest. Right now, she was seated on the brown couch, being sandwiched between Kyle and Craig, listening intently to Bebes’ story as she was narrating them through the scenario that had supposedly happened just a few minutes ago. Her arms flew through the air at the speed of light, contributing to her already hectic talking. Her eyes hurt trying to follow Bebes’ movements. Repeatedly she blinked, trying to focus her vision. _She took a sip from the bottle._

“I’m telling you guys, he drank it straight from his goddamn shoe.” Her pretty face scrunched up in distaste at the thought. The girl noted how the blondes’ hair, which she had neatly straightened out earlier today, had already returned to the familiar curls. Next to her, she could hear Craig sigh in agitation.

“An egg?” A little uncertainty in his monotonous voice. “You sure?”.

When all Bebe did was stare down at him and not give an answer to his question he tried again. The atmosphere growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. Craig was never one to believe anything that came from Bebes’ mouth.

“I mean, don’t behead me if I say this, but you seem a little intoxicated, Bebe, not gonna lie.” Her face grew red in shame, but before she could explode right then and there, the girl to Craigs’ right let out a fit of laughter, getting everyone to quiet down and attracting bystanders like honey would flies.

She wasn’t sure why she was laughing, she always did in uncomfortable situations. It was her defense mechanism. All she always did was laugh. Not one person in the circle dared speak as she laughed, listening to the sound as if in a trance.

Even with her eyes closed, everything was spinning. And even with all the alcohol she drank tonight, her thoughts betrayed her and periodically traveled back to a distinctive face. It made her heart clench in a matter she never thought possible. Involuntarily the fight they had yesterday came to mind. How she shrieked at him to leave, how he begged for her to let him stay. All this alcohol, this wasn’t her.

Her laughter died down in an instant. She needed to call him. She needed him to come and get her right now. She needed him to take her away from them and never give her back and he wouldn’t. She felt sick to her stomach. Where was her phone again?

Frantically she started to roam the pockets of her baggy jeans. First the back, then the front. Nothing. She must have left it in her bag by the door.

Just as she carefully placed the bottle on the ground, let out a shaky breath, and prepared herself for the dizziness that came with standing up, a deep voice echoed from her right.

“There you are!” He forcefully shoved through the barrier which was her friends, approaching her with determination and piking the bottle back up. “You kinda disappeared on me back there,” he slowly spoke, seeming soberer than the others, soberer than _her_. If she thought about it, he hardly drank any alcohol tonight at all. Right as he reached the girls’ spot on the couch, he crouched down to her level, bringing the half-empty bottle back into her hands and encouraged her to take another gulp. She complied. No one caught the glint in his eyes as he watched her.

“Good I found you.”

Who was she going to call again?


	2. Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning!!

How she ended up in Stan’s room was beyond her. Her head hurt, her upper body seemingly on fire in the white hoodie she borrowed from Wendy, while her lower half was freezing. The whole room was turning. Everything melted together into a blur. Where was she again?

Lifting her head as high as she could, she scanned the room, her sight too hazy to focus, and her brain too fuzzy from the alcohol to grasp what was going on. The only thing she could really make out was that she was laying on a bed, definitely a bed. Her head lolled to the side, expecting the familiar lavender sheets and white pillows her aunt knew she liked, only for her green eyes to find blue ones in their stead. They wandered further to the bedside table; the scented candle that normally illuminated her room, gone. Replaced by a box of tissues and a clock. And then, the realization hit her. This was not her room.

In her mind, alarms blaring. _This is not my room_ , she thought again, slowly panicking. The girl tried to prop herself up on her elbows while at the same time pulling her legs closer. The only light source illuminating the room was an old lamp on the right side of the room, emitting a low orange light and glaring in her face. Her eyes continued wandering to her left. They stopped on a blurry face and brown hair.

Her breath picked up in an instant as she discovered the other person. In an unsure manner she slowly tried to pull herself further away from him, only for him to grab her _naked_ calve, and at the contact her gaze snapped down. The baggy jeans she had been wearing; gone. Everything happened in slow-motion. How her face formed into a horrified grimace. How she opened her mouth to scream. How he lunged forward. How the rings she previously wore fell to the ground from the sudden movement. How she tried to shield her arms over her face. Not fast enough.

The deep breath she took in stopped in her throat as a large hand pressed against her mouth. This was when the panic set in. Breathing became harder. He leaned over her, their faces inches apart, his body seemingly swallowing hers. Just now did she realize how massive the boy above her was. Her eyes squeezed shut and her nose scrunched up. His hand swallowing her face.

Even with her starting to hyperventilate, he didn’t let his hold on her face go. She couldn’t breathe. She felt like vomiting. Her hands grabbed at his, trying to pry it off and her legs began to kick at his sides, trying to ram her knees into his stomach. Grunts and yelps escaped the sides of his hand and filled the rooms’ silence. At that moment, the alcohol was not her friend. Tears started running down the sides of her temples. She started screeching into his hand.

When she opened one of her eyes again, it was captured by the same ones she had already encountered twice this evening. He leered down at her. She screamed again. Her head was tossing left and right, trying to shake the digit off, the tears running into her ears as he crushed her body with his weight. Breathing became harder by the second.

Had she been struggling against him for seconds or minutes? She didn’t know. What brought her out of her fight or flight reaction, was his body shifting above her. The sobs growing more aggressive. With quick movements he captured her wrists, pinning them against her sternum and letting go of her mouth at the same time. Now he was pushing all his weight down onto her rib cage; onto her lungs. The air was forced out in an instant and she was left battling to take in another breath. 

A string of curses was spun from her now released lips but they didn’t face him in the slightest. Her legs still kicking. Her voice still screaming. The music from downstairs seemingly getting louder. Drowning out the fight.

Her teary eyes found his glinting ones again, watching them grow closer until she felt his wet lips on her chapped ones. She stared into his; horrified. The kiss was hard, painful even and in that moment of pure horror, her mind couldn’t help itself but think of something else, _anything else. So, it thought of him._

He told her not to come, to stay with him instead. He begged her to. Why didn’t she listen? Because she was _her_.

_“Pez, what are you talking about, dude. You have to go! Half of the people are only coming for you!” Stan towered over her, blocking her way home, securing her by her shoulders for which his hands were a number too big. Making sure she wouldn’t duck under his arms and make a run for it. She managed to avoid them and the subject for over a week, not anymore. They followed her home and circled her when she took the shortcut through the playground. Behind her stood Kenny, fidgeting with his gloved hands and nervously swaying from side to side._

Just like Stan and Kenny said trying to talk her into coming, _it wouldn’t be the same without her_. And so, she came. Because she was _Pez_ , what would a party be without _Pez_.

He worked his mouth against hers, trying to get her to participate. Eyes shut tight the whole time. Her head snapped to the right, breaking the forced act of intimacy. With blurry eyes, she found the wooden door that led into the hallway. And again, she screamed for help. Desperation lazed her voice this time. It cracked.

He tilted his head down next to hers, “No one will hear you over that beat.” A grin formed on his lips. His eyes roamed the side of her face, memorizing every freckle, every lash, and every tear track.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

What happened next, she only recalls in a blur.

His hand reached down to undo his zipper. A struggle between the two broke out as a rush of adrenaline shot through her body. He head-butted her. Or was it her that head-butted him? She remembers the pain. The blood that ran down the side of her forehead. How it remained smeared on his. She bucked her hips, he straddled her waist. She screamed, he laughed. _How could he laugh?_ Her underwear was gone. His pants down. Green ones shut tight, while brown ones gone mad scanned her every move. Teeth clenched and drooling.

Was it this week or last when he told her he loved her? How he held her hands in his, how his lanky figure leaned over her in an attempt to shield her from their prying eyes. The fringe covering his eyes. His forehead pressed firmly against hers, making it impossible for her to see his face. Her eyes roaming his cheek, drawing patterns with his acne scars. Oh, what she would give to see him right now. To have him here with her. What would he do to the beast grunting above her? She wouldn’t dare imagine.

And as she felt the beasts’ hands roam about her body, stray tears turned into rivers and she caved in. Hysteric sobs left her now bleeding lips, ripped open by the brute force inflicted on them by his own. She couldn’t move a muscle with him on top of her, in her hair, between her legs. When did he pry them open?

He let out a small airy laugh as he stared down at the girl and grabbed her face again. He didn’t feel pity nor any other emotion besides his arousal. When he brought his face closer to hers again, a frightened wail left her pretty face. She turned her head to the side, tears pouring out of her eyes and wetting the blue sheets. Her teeth were gritted and hands balled into fists as another surge of anger and fright shook through her smaller body.

Her fighting didn’t face him in the slightest, never losing his grip on her wrists pinned against her chest. As she fought, another snicker left his red lips and his charming voice filled the dense air of Stans’ room. She stilled, listening. What he said made her struggle even harder.

She stared into his familiar face while hiccups ripped through her throat. He stared back at her with that everlasting smile covering his visage. A laugh. Again.

“Oh, come on now. Don’t be like that, Pez.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the preview!

**Author's Note:**

> So.. I did something :-) this is a little side project of mine so please if you find any mistakes tell me :-) I appreciate every comment, don´t be shy! :-)


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